


deferred corrective maintenance

by LittleBlackGoldfish



Series: distance as a measure of our growth [4]
Category: Impulse (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, Mentions of Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22487125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBlackGoldfish/pseuds/LittleBlackGoldfish
Summary: Change comes in it's own time and the scars of old wounds too fade in time. Forgiveness is not earned, but given; a precious gift.
Relationships: Henrietta "Henry" Coles & Thomas Hope, Henrietta "Henry" Coles/Jenna Hope
Series: distance as a measure of our growth [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586440
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of sexual assault appear throughout. No descriptions.

"What's what?"

Henry nearly jumped to her feet at Thomas' voice over her shoulder. The stool she was sitting on, the pencil in her hand, and her notebook all went tumbling, scattering backwards and over the counter respectively. Which did force her on her feet.

"Fuck!" 

He already had his hands up.

"Sorry, sorry," he said contritely. And Henry can see the apology in his eyes. "Thought you heard me come in, 'cause you didn't have..." 

He gestured to his own head, around the ears. 

She stared at him and let her brain, and heart, play catch up with reality. It was only Thomas. Then she glanced over to where her jacket and headphones sat on the floor behind the counter. Mornings and early afternoons were quiet usually, most of the crowd didn't show up till after three unless it was the weekend.

Even back at  _ Surf N' Pizza  _ Henry never listened to music on the clock, at least not with headphones, though the problem there and at the gas station was that it was basically impossible to do. Someone was always coming in or sidling up to the till for something. 

Thomas got 'actually giving a shit' effort from her. 

Not just because he was her mom's boyfriend, either, though that was part of it. Genuinely, Henry likes him, he's one of the few guys they ever lived with that she didn't want to see the inside of a jail cell inside of a month. Thomas is a decent guy. Even though she probably could, Henry keeps her headphones off in the arcade when she has a shift. 

"You know what," he said, the barest hint of irritation in his voice. 

Apparently she kept quiet long enough that he decided to give it up.

"Forget it."

As he moved around the front counter, Henry wanted to say something, despite herself. It hadn't been even a month of him trusting her enough to let her open up the arcade some mornings. Of course she basically started the business with him, Henry probably knew as much about it as he did. 

She knew who to call to repair which machines. What numbers were for the suppliers. Knew which assholes not to let in, and the regulars by name. 

Just about the only part Henry didn't have a handle on was the games themselves. Those were all Thomas. His initials were still on at least a third of the machines; he even set up special prizes for anyone who beat one of his scores.

Wordlessly unbending, he handed her back the notebook and pencil before he turned to wander between the rows of machines and games. He always did a circuit of the floor when he first got in; or at least he used to, Henry only saw him do it in the afternoons now, but she figured he probably did it in the morning when she wasn't on duty and he opened. She stood her stool back up, didn't sit down.

Quiet as it was at the moment, with only a couple of kids in the back, who probably should be in school, but Henry wasn't about to give them shit, it only took a moment for him to reappear. He beelined for his office. Henry's knee jostled and her fingers tightened around the pencil. Flipping the notebook back open she slid it towards Thomas as he passed.

"It's not," she started. 

"Anything, really. Not yet. It's just, like, this…"

Shards of a shattered body exploded outward, revealing the flaming heart burning like a star that burns and consumes the screaming figure. No color yet, just stark black lines against white. Henry hadn't gotten that far yet. She looked away, kept her eyes fixed forward on something he couldn't see.

"Do you ever feel like, I dunno, like a… timebomb or something?"

He was silent for a long moment, looking at the picture, thinking of Elizabeth and Jenna and all the things that had gone unsaid between them for so long. Henry refused to turn towards him. 

Finally he said, "My wife, Jenna's mom, she knew how to deal with all this… the difficult feelings and sticky emotional stuff. I gave piggyback rides and brought home icecream, Elizabeth was the one who dealt with all the tough questions."

"But," he hesitated. 

"You know you can tell me anything, right Henry? I know I didn't exactly pay Jenna enough attention, that I didn't exactly react perfectly when- well when you outed Jenna, but if you're- I mean if you're wondering-"

Henry was startled by the laugh that drew out of her. 

A little bit of it was the sheer ridiculousness of trying to talk about her sexuality with the father of the girl she outed, who also happens to be the father of the girl she might be more than a little in- well, that she might have feelings for. Henry hasn't wondered  _ anything _ since, like, middle school.

What she was wondering now, was why Thomas jumped to that; just because of Jenna? She knew things, sort of, fell apart between the two of them in the aftermath for a bit, but Henry hadn't ever figured it got that bad. It was a little hard to imagine Jenna doing anything that would be anything close to 'exploding.'

Well, okay, no that wasn't true. Henry had the chance to see it aimed at her at least twice now. So maybe it wasn't as ridiculous as she had thought at first, not that that stopped her stupid brain from finding the entire situation hilarious.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, between the embarrassingly giggly laughs still bubbling up out of her. "I've known since I was, like, twelve."

"Oh, so you're-"

She shook her head.

"No, I- Labels aren't really, you know, my deal. I'm me, not like, someone else's fucking idea of me or whatever."

Which didn't really explain anything, not that she had to explain shit to him, but she added, "Guys or girls, for me. But, like, not just anyone. Yeah?"

"Okay," Thomas nodded and she could see the relief clear on his face. 

Yeah, Henry couldn't imagine the prospect of navigating his maybe-almost step-daughter's, like, gay awakening or whatever was a very enticing prospect. 

He gestured to the notebook, to the drawing still sitting there, "So then…" 

"That's..."

But, how the fuck was Henry supposed to explain that sometimes she had nightmares because once she was at a party and started freaking so bad she could swear she saw her skin start cracking. And she couldn't even be sure it wasn't just, like, her head cracking. Because her sort of mentor used to take these shots that he wouldn't tell her what they were for. 

Right, yeah and she can like teleport. 

Which she only found out because Clay fucking Boone tried to force himself on her. That party she was at, by the way? It was after  _ Bill  _ Boone had shot her mom and she'd like taken half his fucking chest somewhere else and then Jenna found out, and literally anything was better than having her and Townes trying to convince themselves by convincing her she wasn't evil or whatever.

So instead, what she said was, "Do you ever feel, like, dangerous?"

Just put it out there, into the air and silence. Her fingers twitch on the tip of the pencil and she watches it dance aimlessly between over her knuckles. A muffled yelled from the back broke the quiet, not angry, just filled with the simple and uncomplicated joy of victory and underneath that the ringing tinny sounds of idle arcade machines plays a chaotic melody. 

Thomas stared at her for a long moment. Remembering other nights.

"On our third date, I took Elizabeth dancing. This was before she knew how terrible at it I was. Anyways, about and hour in, I go to the bathroom and when I get back this guy, huge - he must have been seven feet - is talking Liz up," a small wistful smile broke out across his face. "We weren't 'going steady' or anything, but I'm set to walk up and stake out my territory."

He laughed at the stupidity of a younger man.

"Except when I get closer I see he has his hand on her arm, tight, and Liz is pale. Scared," he let the smile drop. "Next thing I know my hand hurts like a bitch and this guys' friends are sidling up, just as big and looking twice as mean. Elizabeth got us out of there quick."

"The way she looked at me after. Suddenly it wasn't just him she was afraid of."

"I-"

"What happened between you and- well both of the Boones, I never wanted to pry; didn't think it was my place. God knows I got myself in enough trouble just trying to be half a parent to you. I know I can't ask you to tell me what happened, but… if you wanted talk. I'm, I'm here Henry."

"Clay, he uh, he tried to, you know, force himself on me," she said, surprised how easily it slipped out.

"But he didn't-"

"No, no. It didn't get that far because I stopped him. I- I'm the one who, who made him like he is now."

Thomas frowned and Henry knew he must have already guessed parts of it, he saw the door and her warned her about Bill, but they never came out and actually talked about any of that shit. Just let it sit in, like, innuendo and suggestion. 

"But after, Bill, he," and in an instant Thomas went still, like an animal backed into a corner.

Henry hurried on before the thoughts could do more than form, "He didn't do anything, not like you're thinking, he just, he wanted to know who'd hurt his son. So he drove us out to this farm, like way the fuck out in the middle of nowhere, and then he got these guys to line up and just kept asking me if I recognized any of them. And, and he just wouldn't let it go."

"I pointed at one. He ended up dead."

"That's not on you, Henry. Bill wasn't a nice guy, obviously, you were only doing what you had to to stay safe."

"Yeah, no. I know," she paused, gathered her thoughts. "But after everything with the police and the like Amish or whatever, I guess Clay said some shit to him. About me. And that's why he showed up at the- at your house." 

"Jesus," Thomas exhaled. Reached out and let hovers his hand over her shoulder, uncertain. 

Only for a moment thought before he let it drop and squeezed. Somehow her skin didn't immediately crawl, probably something to do with Henry not hating him, and instead of shrugging off the contact she let it sink into her, a warm pressure settling in her chest. 

"And then-" 

The words stuck in her throat, because there really wasn't a way to explain everything that happened without spilling everything; all the secrets that were too big and too fucking weird. And it wasn't just her secret to tell, because Jenna had kept it from him too. 

She tried again, "I-"

Nothing. Henry couldn't make the words come out.

"Is he really dead?"

The words fell from his lips softly, like a prayer, a hope, and she looked like she hadn't just heard him ask that. He still had that same still, flight or fight energy to him, but then Thomas' let himself relax.

"When Lucas- I was afraid it might be something to throw the police off his trail," he said.

"No," Henry said. Drawing out her sentence slowly. Carefully. "He's definitely gone for good."

"Henry, listen. None of that is on you. What Clay did- he got what was coming, and with how Fred ended up, if you'd gone to the sheriff…"

"Well, it's good you didn't. And as for Bill, he- he threatened your mother Henry, if he weren't already dead I'd want to kill him myself," his hand twitched on her shoulder. Squeezed again briefly. "You're not bad, or dangerous or whatever it is you're thinking. Cleo is safe because of you and Clay will never be able to try anything like he did with you again. You did good."

There was so much Thomas didn't understand about it all, couldn't possibly because Henry was keeping it from it. And yet, somehow, despite that it was comforting to hear him say. Some little piece of the fear and guilt that had built up inside her, that aching fear of everything she'd done and become over the last two years, splintered off. 

It was small, tiny really, but she did feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

A mild spring turned slowly into a mild summer as well. Between shifts her shifts Henry began taking long bike rides around Reston and in the process discovered that she'd somehow become attached to the town. Sort of.

Not enough to stay, and not to most of the people, who she honestly still could not give two shits about. But enough to want to savour her time there a bit. It was hard to describe exactly what she'd become attached to.

Memories, maybe. For as much heinous shit happened happened to Henry in Reston, some alright stuff had come out of it too.

She went to the backlot she and Josh tagged together and searched for signs of their work; didn't find any, not that it bothered her, tagging had always been a temporary thing for Henry, more about the action than permanent marks. Then to the motel where he stayed so briefly. 

Stared hard and tried to put scattered vehicles to rooms to tenants, wondered whether they meant half as much to each other as Josh did to her. Tried to make stories out of her glimpses; who was skipping out on bail, running from a bad situation, stepping out on their husband or wife, or just driving until they could recognize a single face. Imagined what they talked about. Kids at home, sports scores, the asshole that cut them off in traffic, the weather. 

Next the flooded quarry where they tried drowning her. Where she almost succeeded on her own. For like, science or whatever. Peered over the edge down into the placid chill waters below and Henry had the briefest urge to take another running leap off the side just to see what would happen. Where would she end up? 

It passed.

One time she even rode past the old Boone house, or at least where it had been. Long gone. Little more than a big dirt hole with a concrete slab at the bottom and the outlines of walls around the edges. And looking at it Henry breathed a little easier, watching the last traces of Bill Boone in the world buried under fresh dirt. 

Even so, she could still picture the place. Remembered yelling at Clay in his room, picking up the rock and throwing it through the big front windows and days later the fire pressing in on all sides as she wrapped herself around him tighter and tighter, the entire time trying with everything she had to force herself from  _ here _ to  _ there _ . Skin crawling at the intimacy of the memory, the way Henry had curled herself around him in ways even his hands in her pants hadn't been. When it was over, Henry had thought that was the end of it. That with that single act she'd forever banished the specter of Clay Boone from her life, from her dreams, and yet almost two years on he still hung over her.

Maybe he wouldn't ever be completely gone, a jagged scar etched deep into her.

She tried not to think about it much. It crept back in though if she wasn't careful, like the way the door to the apartment leaked a little in the winter eventually on quiet lonely nights Henry's thoughts would spiral back to that day in Clay's truck. She'd stopped trying to re-edit the moment, had pieced together a solid narrative of it for herself, but she still came back to it.

Without it, would she be the Henry she as now? Would she have run long ago, said yes to Josh and gone to Montana. Built that house in the town by the river that he'd talked about and learned to snowboard and flyfish, found a job in town, like, waitressing or something. It sounded nice then. Now? Now the idea just set something in her chest to aching, like some part of herself was suddenly too small and it kept pulling at all these bruised and bleeding muscles she didn't even know she had.

And what really fucked Henry up was that, sometimes, a tiny part of her was actually thankful for what Clay had done. Maybe thankful was the wrong word. But sometimes she imagined going back in time anc changing things so it never happened. And sometimes Henry imagined... not, and the second was somehow more comforting. Without what happened she and Jenna would probably have just stayed two people who lived in the same house.

Of course she probably wouldn't have called Josh in the first place. Finished out highschool in Reston and then just disappeared. Just the way her mom taught her.

Eventually she was saved from anymore self-reflective and disturbing bike rides by Jenna and Townes coming back. Which was almost worst. Townes was, well, Townes and Henry was thankful for that. 

She was doing a much better job of not ghosting him so much.

Texted him more, called him infrequently, and just generally tried to keep in touch. Once Townes came home Henry spent at least several hours a week at his house. Just taking up space on his bed, letting long hours slip by in mutual silence. Occasionally Henry would hear Zoe's voice leaking through his headphones alongside whatever game he was playing. Apparently he had a new therapist who told him it was okay to play video games and shit again, or maybe he just decided to chuck the advice of the old one. 

With both of them in town, there wasn't actually that much for them to talk about; as it turned out they didn't actually have that much in common. Henry couldn't entice him to smoke up no matter what, not that she tried to push it. And for her part, Henry was hopeless at his games. 

They found that out one night after he set her up with an old laptop and she proceeded to stumble along after Zoe and he for a couple of hours. None of their advice helped the slightest bit, Henry just didn't get how to make the little figure do even half the things they could and she kept having to look down at the keyboard to make sure she was hitting the right buttons for the things she had figured out. In the end Henry had more fun watching them, it was a little like watching a movie or a show that way. 

The art was nice.

Henry actually ended up sketching something for both of them based on their characters mixed with bits of their actual selves, Townes practically jumped for joy she showed him his a few days later and insisted on scanning it so he could send it to Zoe. She didn't exactly protest.

Seconds later, his computer was chiming.

"Henry," Zoe's voice echoed out of Towne's speakers after a few moments. "These are really good. I mean it's a different style than the game, but they're really awesome. You really do have a talent."

Heat crept up the back of her neck. Usually she didn't show her sketches to people, the stuff she tagged was what she actually wanted people to see. Besides Thomas, the last person who actually saw anything that was out on a wall somewhere or painted across a water tower was whoever looked at her portfolio and before that it was Josh. That was before Henry even moved to Reston. 

This had been sort of based on them though, she hadn't felt right keeping it from either of them.

She shrugged, "It's... whatever, I barely spent any time on them."

"No, I mean it. Thank you. You gave me a cool magic arm. And a totally sweet warbow to match."

"Yeah, well I gave Townes some seriously kickass, like, magic armor or whatever. Figured you should get something at least as cool."

"Hey, have you ever thought of doing concept art for games? After art school, I mean," Zoe said. "You see a ton of it floating around after games come out, so it's gotta be, like, an actual job someone does."

"No, I-" she said. 

"I haven't really thought much about, like, after or whatever. I kinda figured, I dunno, if I'm going to do it anyway, I might as well go to an actual art school. Learn what else I can do. Not like real school is an option."

"Well I think your art is very good and would very happily immerse myself in a universe based on it, " Townes said. 

Quickly adding, "Though tagging is of course a well documented medium of artistic expression, if somewhat lacking in similar compensation."

Henry laughed, so did Zoe. Probably not for the same reasons; Henry was laughing because she'd never figured art, much less tagging, would ever make her any money at all. Meanwhile Zoe laughed because she found Townes adorable.

Neither of them pushed her any more at the time, which Henry was grateful for. When the conversation moved on to their plans for school next year, Henry could actually sort of participate. It was a weird feeling. As they talked about what classes they were looking forward too, the friends they wanted to see again, and the things they'd learned about 'college life' Henry found her anxiety ratcheting higher and higher despite the fact that she knew she had gotten in.

That just meant she had to think about where she was going to live, the supplies Henry would need,how to cover the parts of her tuition her the aid didn't, and what to do with her car. It was working again. Mostly. But aside from her clothing, notebooks, and a handful of other things Henry didn't have much in the way of stuff to lug around. Toronto was, like, a real city anyways. Did she even need a car?

All of that wasn't even really the issue. No, the problem was, quite simply, Jenna.

Jenna had been a shadow looming over the whole summer since they got back from Colgate, a persistent empty space into which Henry dared not step and out of which nothing seemed to ever make it's way to her. She could only tell the course of Jenna's summer so far by the absences it left in Henry's life as she moved in and out of it.

Days Townes definitely wasn't spending with Zoe when he made a point of letting Henry know he'd be busy. Busy. No convoluted explanations filled with artfully arranged half-truths, just the vaguest and most simplified excuse. Henry had never asked him to avoid talking about Jenna, so she figured it must be something Jenna asked to do. Or maybe she had asked not to hear about Henry and Townes figured he was doing Henry a favor by extending her the same courtesy or some bullshit like that.

She could ask, but knowing might actually be worse than wondering.

Then there were her mom's weekly coffee dates, the ones she very carefully never talked about. Sketched out in extra long "walks" on saturday. And the shopping trips arranged so Henry can't make it, that lasted for hours and yet somehow never seemed to actually end with her mom buying anything.

Which was fine or whatever. 

Henry didn't even really mind. Shopping with her mom was always, like, a fraught thing. Jenna needs her mom in ways Henry doesn't anymore and her mom needs someone to need her in the ways she learned to stop needing to long ago. Besides, Henry spends half of her week with Jenna's dad so it's probably, like, a fair trade. 

And even if she did resent either of them at all, it was all Henry's fault anyways, just another thing to add to the pile of things Henry wished she could redo or take back or find a way to say properly. 

Out of all the fixtures of her life, Thomas was the one that changed the least. They had a safe relationship to fall back on, he was the boss and Henry was his employee and if things got awkward because of a comment it was easy enough to focus on the things that needed getting done. And maybe that made Henry some sort of, coward or whatever. But she had only just started figuring out what she wanted out of life, and who in particular, and Henry wasn't exactly ready to start putting all that shit out in the open.

Unfortunately, after just a few weeks the time for stalling ran out.


	3. Chapter 3

With summer in full swing and all the schools done for the year, business got, well, busier. Even in the mornings. Granted it still only amounted to a handful more people in the arcade before noon, maybe a couple dozen on the weekends, but it was still a significant jump. And what that meant was that Henry suddenly needed to be much more attentive in making sure people weren't getting into fights, damaging the machines, or making off with prizes. 

It was hectic enough that Thomas had to hire a couple more people, high school kids, too. So that meant that Henry was also now managing others some of the time. Things were still pretty chill most of the time.

So when the tinny electronic chime connected to the door went off she only glanced up enough to see if it was a delivery and to make sure it wasn't someone Henry needed to turn around. Dark haired girl in a tanktop and shorts barely even registered. At first. Once her brain caught up with the fact that ti was Jenna, Henry's body was suddenly warring between freezing in place and fleeing for the backroom. 

It was only lucky that she hadn't looked over yet. Of course a second later, Thomas came bounding out of his office for the first time since he came in that morning. Which made sense, he had probably asked her to stop by in the first place.

"Jenna!"

She turned slowly and as her eyes landed on her dad Jenna's mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile before she caught sight of Henry a second later. Nothing happened for an extra half a second before her eyes darted away and fixed themselves back on Thomas.

"Hey dad," Jenna said, her gaze carefully avoiding Henry as she looked around.

"Looking good. Plenty of people."

"Yeah, things really picked up once school let out." 

He looked back at Henry and with a look of deliberate inspiration said, "Oh Henry, Matt says Margarite is definitely interested. Giver her a call."

Thomas stepped away from Jenna and held out a piece of torn paper, just far enough out of her reach that Henry actually had to get out from behind the counter to get it. Bringing her closer to Jenna.

"Uh, thanks."

Then, with such practiced ease and innocence that Henry immediately knew it was intention, he went on, "Hey, Jenna, you remember Margarite right, my friend Matt's daughter? We spent a summer with them… oh, a decade ago or something. The camping trip."

Jenna nodded absently to her dad and kept her eyes fixed on the scrap of paper in Henry's hands. Her expression flashing through rapid controtions; from confusion then to shock before morphing into something vaguely nauseous. She snapped out of it a second later.

"Yeah, I- uh, yeah."

"Well," Thomas went on blithely, like he hadn't even noticed his daughters' reaction. "Henry might end up her roommate while she's at school down in Toronto. Maybe you can visit the two of them sometime next year." 

"Margarite just started on her doctorate. Bio-something engineering, I think?"

Turning towards her father, Jenna let out a long sigh,"Dad, you know ne-" then her entire body went still and she whipped back around.

Behind her Henry saw Thomas smirk. Jenna's brow creased as she regarded her a look of nearly total incomprehension and her face did another rapidfire series of transformations. These were significantly less readable to Henry.

"Wait, school?"

He nodded, "CAD? No, that's not right. Cato? Taco?"

"OCAD," Henry forced out.

Thomas snapped his fingers, actually fucking snapped them, "That's it. But-"

He stopped and, wearing an exaggerated expression of pure bewilderment, looked between the two of them.

"Jenna, I thought you knew."

No he fucking didn't. Henry was sure of that.

It probably hadn't been hard for him to figure out something was up, but Henry had stupidly assumed that because he hadn't confronted her about it Thomas was going to just let it slide. So, apparently, had Jenna judging by the gobsmacked look on her face. Which Henry might have actually found hilarious, if not for the fact that the tenuous facade Henry had built around the entire situation was actively in the process of collapsing. 

Jenna took a step closer, her face settled into a blank expression. Every last bit of Henry, down to the fine hairs on her legs, was screaming at her to turn and run. Before she could, though, Jenna opened her mouth and in barely more than a whisper, said, "That was why you came down."

"You left. Why didn't you tell me?"

There was no good answer to that. Henry had to struggle against the instinct to skip out on this moment, to keep herself in place. That had to be growth, or something. 

"I- uh, can we talk about this, you know, some other time."

Crowded arcade run by almost step-dad in the middle of the day wasn't exactly her idea of a great place to have conversation about  _ feelings _ and shit. Where precisely would be was a question she hoped to not have to answer any time soon, in fact Henry hoped the whole issue would go away very quickly. A few more months and she would be gone. Which would definitely wrap up the issues pretty neatly.

Jenna's eyebrows arched almost as much as her voice, "What, so you have time to figure out your excuse?"

"What am I even saying? No, I said I was done and I meant it-"

Henry winced, looked over Jenna's shoulder at Thomas, still watching them intently, "Shit Jenna, no. I just want-" 

Bit down on the lie. What she wanted hardly mattered much anymore, it was pretty clear that this was happening whether she liked it or not and she'd really rather it didn't happen in front of Jenna's dad and a not insignificant portion of Reston's under eighteen population. She fixed Thomas with a glare.

"I'm taking my break."

"Sure," he chirped. Henry scowled.

"Tell you what, why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off. I still know how to keep this place running."

And if she hadn't already figured out that he was behind the whole fucking mess, that would have sealed it for her. Of course there's nothing to do about it now, except keep glaring at him hoping it'll maybe give him, like, a headache or something.

"I'll see you in fifteen," she insisted.

Grabbing Jenna by the arm, which earned Henry a quiet squawk and a glared of her own, she dragged the other girl towards the storeroom. She ripped her arm out of Henry's grip after a second, but continued to follow.

Henry kept her eyes locked forward, ignoring the nods and looks they got from customers and the familiar greetings Jenna got from kids just a year or two younger than either of them. When they got to the door of the storeroom, she paused just long enough to punch in the code. She didn't even glance behind her as strode in, trusting Jenna not to lag behind. 

It was warmer by a few degrees inside.

With the mildness of the summer it was only a little uncomfortable, but Henry knew if a heatwave came through she'd seriously start to dread having to restock. Even Thomas knew he'd have to spring for AC eventually, but with the weather the way it was he was content to put off the expense.

Eyeing the current stock distracted her for the seconds it took for Jenna to slip in and let the door click shut behind her. Then the heat seemed to jump a few degrees, though Henry knew it had to be her imagination, and so she decided to stay like that for an extra moment. Just long enough for her heart to settle a tiny bit. And for her pits to maybe stop sweating so much.

"Well?" Jenna urged.

Henry turned, locked eyes with her and promptly averted her gaze again.

_ Fuck. _

Opened her mouth. Snapped it shut an instant later.

_ Double fuck. _

Shoved her hands in her pockets, then pulled them out again and crossed them over her chest. Let them drop back to her side after a moment of tense silence.

Finally looked back up and stared intently at a point just over one of Jenna's ears. Henry wanted nothing more than to say something flippant, to make out like Jenna was overreacting, turn the tables and remind her that she'd said she didn't want to deal with Henry's shit again. It was all on the tip of her tongue.

And she knew that it would all be supremely unhelpful, the worst kind of Henry like mistake. 

"I was going to tell you," she said instead. Quietly. Heart thundering in her ears. "That night I came down."

Jenna rolled her eyes, "Why didn't you?"

"I was going to, I talked to Townes about it, and I-" Henry swallowed.

"I wasn't even sure I was getting accepted, or that I would go if I was. Started thinking it might be better to wait, until I knew for sure." 

Lies. Constructed to save face and tamp down her fear.

"Then, why even come down?"

She shrugged, she hadn't exactly thought the whole thing through beforehand and thinking about her reasons in the months that followed hadn't exactly given her a reason Henry was willing to go around announcing. It sat on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill over her lips anyways.

"There was a call. Someone from the, like, financial aid people or whatever, asking questions because apparently I hadn't filled it out quite right."

"So, you did know."

"Yeah. No. I guess, yes."

"So, again, why not tell me Henry?"

Her heart beat against her chest, a tight knot driving the air out of her lungs, "I dunno, I guess I just thought- fucking, shit."

"I really don't know!"

She paced a tight little circle.

Jenna blew out a worn, ragged, sigh, "Not good enough, Henry. I won't let you keep walking all over me." 

Her voice rose and it was the same argument, the one they'd never resolved. Never came back from, circling back like one of her mom's bad boyfriends.

"Using me. You take and take and take, but you never give anyone anything. It's not fair." Something angry and jagged tore itself loose inside her. Popped with a sickening sense of freedom that threatened to burst out of her, hot and heady; that old familiar surging feeling of anger and adrenaline coursing up again.

"Like it was fucking fair of you to keep using my shitty life as a distraction from your own crap. Only to turn around and blame me when the shit you were avoiding came back ," she hurled the words without thinking.

"You keep blaming me, but you used me just as much."

Without really knowing she meant them at all. But once they were out, Henry thought that she probably did. A lot maybe. Letting those thoughts out, saying them aloud, felt good and they fueled the building stream of self-righteous anger in her. And maybe it would be hot enough to scald away the doubt and guilt that whispered at the corners of her mind.

Because it was all old shit, coming up again and again. For some reason Henry couldn't put a stopper to it now that she'd let it loose once; it was a valve she couldn't close. Her feet jittered. The room closed in around her, suddenly too small for the tight circle she was still making. 

"You're right."

Henry felt ready to burst, a balloon blown to full.

"And when you got bored, you found something new to distract you from all the shit in your own life that you didn't want-" 

Somehow the words finally filtered into Henry's brain, a rush of water on the flame of her anger, "Wait, I'm what?"

She stared at Jenna, uncomprehending. And it was like all the air had gone out of Jenna too, she just stood there, deflated, staring back at Henry without really looking at her and looking like she was seeing something else. 

"I," Jenna started. 

"When I first saw you after-" she caught sight of Henry and seemingly thought better of finishing that sentence. "You looked so vulnerable. And I wanted to help you, to be there for you, but it was also easier; having you need me, rather than… deal with my own mess."

Henry held her breath, scared somehow that even the slightest sound might break whatever was happening. Their first honest conversation since, well, since Henry broke them the first time.

"I was drowning inside myself. And you were such a- you needed every part of me, not just the smart part, or the good daughter, or the quiet friend, but everything. You have no idea how good it felt to be needed like that, Henry."

"That made me feel, safe, with you. Safe enough to talking about the things i was drowning in; tell you I was gay, it was like being able to breath again. But then it all came crashing back down again, all the stuff I'd been ignoring," Jenna stared hard into Henry's eyes. "And you took that and shoved it, like a knife, into my back."

"You outed me Henry." 

"I know," she managed the words somehow, though it was like they tore at her throat on the way out. Every inch of Henry was tense.

"I hated you, hated you so much that just looking at you made me sick to my stomach. But what I hated the most, was how much it felt like I  _ needed _ you."

"Or," she said, her face smoothing out in realization. 

"Maybe what I hated the most, was how close I came to doing the exact same thing. I, I still don't know what I was going to say that night, but it was at least as much of a secret as my being gay."

Henry swallowed, she was saying almost exactly the same thing she remembers saying herself the day after in the hallway, whispering to keep passing ears from prying, and despite that, somehow hearing it fall from Jenna's lips made Henry feel uneasy. Guilt bubbled up in her chest instead of happiness and vindication. A sick light feeling.

"That doesn't make- I mean, I still shouldn't have… done that."

"No fucking kidding, Henry," Jenna growled.

And the sudden shift in tone took Henry so completely by surprise that she actually stepped back.

Then Jenna sighs, "But the fact that you hurt me doesn't mean I wasn't ready to do exactly the same thing to you. I basically did everything I could to say it without saying it."

"I- yeah, maybe," she said. Thinking about that night had never done Henry any favors. 

"I guess, I owe you this then," Jenna said, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath and fix Henry with an intense, searching, look. 

"I'm sorry."

Hearing it out loud didn't, like, magically fix anything, she didn't feel sudden relief and all the tense, uncomfortable, knots in her chest remained and her shoulders still felt too tight and itchy. In short, Henry felt exactly the same as she did seconds ago. Just as raw and stretched out. A little more even.

Maybe, if she also, "I'm sor-"

"It doesn't really fix anything, does it?"

"No," Henry sighed, tried to relax and leant back against the nearest sturdy chunk of shelves. "Any idea what does?"

"Time?"

"And. I think we have to actually decide whether we want to forgive each other."

They each let that sit, in silence, for a long moment.

Neither of them could seem to look at the other as they stood opposite each other. For Henry it wasn't even really a choice; whatever shit she was holding on to, she doesn't want to hold onto anymore. So it was just time she needed. Time for the slow passage of hours, minutes, days, and months to salve away the raw ache in her into nothing more than a memory.

Which wasn't apparently where Jenna was. And that Henry felt like a leaden weight settling around her heart, dragging to the pit of her stomach. Heavy and expectant, like a sentence unpassed.

"I want to."

Oh. Henry didn't have anything to say to that. Because that was like a weight suddenly being lifted, like something loosening in her chest and a rising feeling undoing her. Jenna wasn't done, thankfully. 

"So, Toronto, uh?" And for the first time in a long while, there was a real smile on her face. Directed at Henry. "At least it's close."

To that the only thing she could say was, "Everything is close for me."

Jenna snorted and Henry breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. I did say it was going to get worse before it got better. And there's still a lot for both Jenna and Henry to address.
> 
> I have another part planned, this is the end of the already written stuff though; the next part is currently only an outline and it promises to be pretty long on it's own so I'm not sure when I'll be able to start posting it. Definitely not by next Monday. But it is is coming, so... yeah.
> 
> Please, any feedback is welcome. Whether it's about this or any of the other parts.


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